Little Bird [-hs]

014 - talia

NAOMI

My heart caught in my throat, I stride through the bustling club room.

I changed out of my revealing costume, back into my clothes from the day. Compared to the girls in sparkling dresses and high top sneakers, my long cream crewneck and jeans are prudish. Sweat lines my scalp and runs down my spine. I dodge sloshing vodka crans and reckless bodies until I reach the club's entrance. Scattered parties of people make it past the metal detectors and attempt to regroup. There he is. I chew the inside of my cheek.

"You need an alibi."

My hand darts to my back pocket in reflex, grazing over the thin evidence of the piece of paper hiding there.

Niall glances at me, and he does a double take. He smiles, waves for the other bouncer to take his side, and he stands to meet me. "What's up?"

I force my hand to my side, and I smile. Gone is the black lipstick, replaced with my beige gloss. It's closer to what I wore to work back then. The slippery, sick feeling in my gut grows, but I smile wider. "Nothing," I lightly laugh.

"Are you okay?" His eyes dart around the room. I know he saw Harry come in earlier. I know he's looking for him now. I reach forward, and my fingers graze his arm. His eyes snap back to me.

"He left."

He nods. His shoulders relax into my touch, and he grins. The bass pounds between us. "You looked great up there," he shouts. The words hit the massive wall of sound, reaching me faintly.

"Thank you." I lean in closer. My hand fully grips his arm. He stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"Wanna get a drink before you go?"

"Please."

It doesn't take much after that.

He drives us to my apartment and parks his rickety car on the curb. He steps through the muddy grass and meets me on the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pockets. His grin is wicked, just like I remember. It's too cold for the bugs tonight, and so the neighborhood is dead silent. Despite it, he's wearing a black t-shirt. He glows with warmth. The paper burns in my back pocket. I shiver, and he offers me his elbow.

"Chilly?"

I loop my arm through his, leaning my head into his bicep. My brain rejects the warmth, the scent of his cologne. It's wrong, and I want to scream and push him away. I swallow the thought and giggle. "You know what would warm me up?"

His chest rocks. "I have a few ideas."

I fumble with my keys, my hands shaking not entirely from the cold. I'm grateful for the excuse. He chuckles as I finally find the hole. We tumble into the cozy warmth and darkness of my entryway. I bend to pull off my shoes. His hand grazes around my lower back, and my heart rockets in my chest. In my head I beg him not to reach into my back pocket. He just rubs my back and bends down to untie his own shoes.

My sigh is audible.

"So what changed?" He asks, gliding into my living room. I chase after him and corner him as he sits on my couch.

"Want another drink?" I pant.

He sits back and looks at me with his puppy-dog eyes. He used to sink me with that look, blue eyes as clear as the sky, as if he's never had a sinful thought. He runs a hand through his hair. "Always."

"Wait here." I turn on my heel and storm into the kitchen.

I go as fast as I can, uncorking the wine with superhuman strength. Two glasses before me, their stems delicately supporting the deep bowl of the cup. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the paper.